Too Far Gone
by VirgoStarr
Summary: My Walking Dead fan fiction (namely a Daryl Dixon love story). When twenty-six year old Hazel Ferris awakes to a zombie apocalypse, what lengths will she take to protect her little brother? Is it too late to even save herself
1. Chapter 1

You get to a certain point in your life when you realize nothing is ideal. Novels and stories try to tell you that you'll eventually reach a climax, an ideal point in your life. You might think you're there, only to find out you're worse off than before.

When I came home from college, I decided to stay with my parents and younger brother in Marietta, Georgia.

"Haze!" yelled my brother, Emile, as soon as I walked through the door. He ran into me, nearly knocking me over with his hug.

"Welcome home Hazel!" called my mother from the kitchen. This house really didn't feel like home though. Aside from Emile, nobody hear really cared about me.

"How's my favorite girl?" asked my dad in that big booming voice of his. His hunting boots made a lot of noise as he made his way down the stairs, leaving a trail of mud.

"Just fine," I muttered awkwardly as he pulled me into a hug. "And the eye is fine too," I said in a preempted response.

I had been blind in my right eye ever since I was born, but my condition worsened after a hunting accident when I was eight. I traced the scar with my finger.

"Okay everyone! Dinner is ready!" shouted my mom "And to celebrate having my baby girl back, I made something special!"

"I'm twenty-six!" I snapped "Don't refer to me as a baby!" My mother's normally happy face flickered to pain for a second, but then returned to a smile.

"Alright, I'm sorry Hazel," she said softly, setting a dish on the dining room table. I walked to my seat cautiously, knowing the potential of my mother's cooing. She had the ability to cook something so much it explodes within five seconds of sitting on the table.

Sighing in relief when it didn't, I fully sat down and made myself comfortable in the chair. Emile sat next to me and my father across.

The food was served and everyone started eating, or at least tried to. My mother couldn't make cereal, much less a full dinner. I almost felt glad I had come back. A nice, normal family dinner was what I needed to cut the homesickness. That is, until the fighting started.

My mom had decided to put on the radio, which is usually what starts it. She put on a news station with a man droning on about politics, elevator music playing quietly in the background.

About halfway through dinner though, his voice began to pick up.

"Breaking news, it seems as though there has been an outbreak of some disease in the south-east United States," the newscaster said, his voice wavering "Atlanta has been hit with a serious case of it. If you live in the surrounding area, it is recommended that you take serious precautions and stay inside.

"Symptoms include fever which may lead to death. In some cases, the infected have been known to come back to life-" At this point, my father shut off the radio.

"Bull shit," he muttered, clenching his fork so hard it started to bend.

"George, maybe we should lock the doors and windows and stay in one room together," my mother suggested, lightly touching my father's arm "I just want us to be safe."

"Lilly, you're being crazy," he said reassuringly "It was probably a slow news day for them and they started making up stories for excitement."

"Please? I know there's a high chance it's not true! I'm just worried!"

"No, trust me, everything is going to be okay!"

This simple conversation turned into a full out argument. They started throwing things and shouting different profanities. It reminded me of what went on when I was still living there, and I suddenly started wondering about what Emile had been put through.

Knowing that it wouldn't calm down for at least another hour, I took Emile out to my car where we both fell asleep.

The next morning, I woke up with a stiff neck. We were both in the back seat, and I was curled around Emile, as if protecting him. I got up, carefully laying my brother back on the seat, and looked out the window.

It was busy outside. Several people were in their cars driving along the road, and others were walking on the sidewalk. There was something strange about the ones who walked though. They stumbled around as if they had problems with their legs. Their arms were bent at odd angles and their skin had taken on a weird coloring, green almost, as if they were decaying.

I got out of my car and went inside the house to see if my parents were happy or still fuming. What I saw inside shocked me. My mom and dad were sprawled across the table, apparently dead. My father had a bite mark on his arm. My mother also had one, but on her neck. Blood covered the silverware and plates.

I wanted to take them to a doctor, but I knew they were already too far gone. My problems really began when they both started to stir. For precautionary reasons, I took a rather large kitchen knife and the shot gun I knew my dad kept under his bed.

When I stepped back outside and entered in the driver's side of my car, I looked around me and realized this was no normal disease. I had entered the world of the walking dead.


	2. Chapter 2

I was panting heavily, taking in large gulps of breath, close to hyperventilating as we sped away from Marietta. All that lay ahead of us was a vast expanse of forest and the occasional car that was going way over the legal speed limit. At this point, it probably didn't matter. Any nearby law enforcers were also on their way out.

Getting farther into the woods only made me more nervous. Each mile we drove put us farther and farther away from the life we had once known. The cozy feeling of having everything and everyone we needed was gone within seconds. My thoughts were stopped when I heard Emile mumbling something in the backseat. A bump we hit in the road must have woken him up.

"Shh, go back to sleep Em," I cooed, reaching my hand into the back street to stroke his hair. My attempts were futile, for he sat straight up in the car seat.

"Haze! Where are we?" he asked worriedly "Why are we going so fast? Where are mom and dad? Why do you have that gun?" Thinking about how naïve and innocent my younger brother was only made me cry. I didn't want to expose him to what was out there, but I couldn't shelter him forever. I chose to ignore his questions for now.

"Emile, buckle up," I said in my best parental voice "We don't want you getting hurt." Looking in my rearview mirror, I saw that he understood my eversion and didn't plan on barraging me with more questions. He simply asked "Well, wherever we're going, do we have everything we need?" I cursed under my breath because we certainly didn't have enough supplies. We only had one gun, a knife, and no extra ammo. As for food, all I had was a small bag of groceries in the trunk. I was lucky I had gone shopping the day before.

"Yeah," I said, my voice cracking, an apparent sign that I was lying.

"Even your medicine?" asked Emile softly. His question caught me by surprise and I nearly slammed on the breaks.

"SHIT!" I shouted out, not even caring that there was a ten year old in the car. I hadn't bothered taking my medication because I thought I would only be there for a night. Because of this unexpected apocalypse, I could go without it for months. I could live without the depression medication though, as long as nothing got me stressed.

"How-how did you know I take that?" I stammered, looking backwards slightly, but still keeping my eyes on the road. The little boy shrugged.

"I saw it when I came to visit you at college," he murmured "I asked your roommate and she told me what it was." His lower lip stuck out in a pouty face, but I could tell he also felt guilty. "Are you sure you'll be alright Haze?"

"Yeah, it's just something that makes me feel better," I tried to say happily "I'm not sick, so it shouldn't be too much of a problem." I shot my widest grin at him, but he didn't return it, nor did he acknowledge that I was there.

It was understandable. The kid had been put through a lot with our parents after I left for college. Now I was keeping secrets from him that could endanger his life. I would probably want to close myself off from the world at this point too.

We had been driving for a couple hours now when I realized Where exactly are we going? I tapped my index finger on the steering wheel, biting my lower lip thoughtfully. I wanted to go back to college. All my stuff, including my medication, was there. On the other hand, it was a highly populated place. Who knew how many walking dead people were there already? I turned on the radio to calm my nerves. It was on the news station that we had listened to the night before. We were greeted with the same droning voice.

"…whatever this disease is. In the span of one day, it has spread all the way up the east coast and is heading towards the mid-west. Cases have come up in as far as Colorado. It is suggested that survivors head towards places on the west coast such as Washington and Oregon…" I shut it off at this point; worried about Emile hearing anything he didn't need to know.

"Wait, what was that about survivors?" asked Emile, sitting straight up suddenly. I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, trying to think of an answer. In the end, I decided to tell him the truth.

"Well, you know about the outbreak of disease," I began quietly "It's been causing dead people to come back to life. It seems as though when people are bitten by these things they also become one of them."

"So like zombies?" he interrupted. He paused for a second, looking down. When he looked up at me, his eyes had gone glassy "Is that what happened to mom and dad?" His face made tears start welling up in my eyes and a lump formed in my throat. I turned around, breathing deeply, not wanting to cry in front of Emile.

"So are we going to the west coast?" he asked me, almost hopefully. I thought about it, but realize it wasn't a good idea.

"No, it's better to keep on the east coast," I replied "Everybody is headed there, and besides, we'd have to cross several states of walkers just to get there. Who knows how long it could take?" Emile nodded, agreeing with me, but the peace was cut short by a shout from his mouth.

"LOOK OUT!" I turned around just in time to see a walker stumbling across the road, but I wasn't fast enough to avoid hitting it. The body crumpled to the ground as our car turned over and fell off the road, rolling down a hill and into the forest.


End file.
